


darling, what's it coming to?

by emeraldpalace



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Body Worship, Crossdressing, Degradation, Dom/sub, Established Relationship, Gloves, Hair-pulling, Handcuffs, High Heels, Humiliation, Impact Play, Lingerie, M/M, Mommy Kink, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:56:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26499748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emeraldpalace/pseuds/emeraldpalace
Summary: Sakusa has a surprise for Atsumu.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 3
Kudos: 210
Collections: Done Reading! ^^, Haikyuu!!, SakuAtsu NSFW Week





	darling, what's it coming to?

**Author's Note:**

> so uh. horny hours huh. 
> 
> written for the nsfw sakuatsu week!
> 
> thanks to the wonderful [ari](https://twitter.com/aribiaobi) who drew the [picture](https://twitter.com/aribiaobi/status/1288114859989561345) within the fic, please go check her out!!

_“A surprise? You!?” Atsumu had asked in disbelief last night when they had discussed the scene Sakusa had proposed._

_“Again, only if it’s alright with you. I understand if—“_

_“No, no, I’m excited! What is it, handcuffs? A new vibe? Oh, didja finally get that mirror you were talking about—“_

_“It’s not much of a surprise if I tell you, is it?” Sakusa had rolled his eyes, but it wasn’t enough to hide the blush from his cheeks completely. “It’s really more of an… aesthetic choice.”_

Atsumu has thought long and hard all day about what that aesthetic choice could be, but nothing could’ve ever prepared him for _this_.

Sakusa, sat on the bed with his legs crossed. Those same legs clad in black heels and dark tights—no, thigh-high socks, oh god—with a fishnet pattern. A black leather skirt hugs his thighs snugly and tapers at his waist around a deep purple shirt with a ruffled collar, buttoned up conservatively to the top but contrasted with the absolute filth that are the black leather gloves around his hands. And then his face—framed with even more curls than usual with a... Wig? Extensions? Atsumu doesn’t know but it’s even prettier than Sakusa usually is, especially with the black matte lipstick and the eyeliner sharp enough to kill a man—

“You’re late,” Sakusa interrupts his train of thought. It’s an accusation, Atsumu knows. One that they’ve agreed upon, and Atsumu is supposed to act all casual about it until Sakusa fucks him into submission as a punishment, but all thoughts except _you’re hot, you’re gorgeous, please fuck me,_ have evaporated right out of his brain and into his dick.

“ _Omi-kun_ —“ He’s not even sure what he wants to say but he snaps his jaw shut again when Sakusa clicks his tongue and steps up to him. Only now does Atsumu realize that there’s a riding crop in his hand too, as he slowly runs it’s tip under Atsumu’s chin to tilt it up.

“You may address me as ‘ _ma’am_ ’ or ‘ _Mistress_ ’, understood?”

Sakusa’s sharp gaze bores into him and Atsumu has to look up more than usual to meet his eyes. He must be over two meters tall with the heels, but it’s not just the physical difference that gets to him—Atsumu doesn't think he’s ever felt so _small_ in such a short amount of time, and he finds that he doesn’t mind at all.

He swallows and replies, “Yes.”

Suddenly he feels the tip of the crop on his cheek—not at all painful, just a light tap, but it’s a warning, a _promise_ , of what’s to come.

“What did I just say?”

“I—I’m sorry… ma’am.”

Sakusa hums slowly, eyes softening a bit as he raises a gloved hand to run it over Atsumu’s cheek gently.

“Good boy.”

It’s embarrassing how he can instantly feel those two words shoot down his spine and straight into his core.

“Still,” Sakusa says and takes a couple of steps back towards the bed, voice dropping into its uncompromising tone again. “You were late. What do you have to say to that?”

He captures Atsumu’s eyes with a certain look, one that combined with the makeup makes his obsidian eyes look ever darker than usual, and all protests and retorts Atsumu had come up with on his way home die on his tongue.

“I—I’m sorry.”

“Are you now?” Sakusa smoothes out the bedsheets with a careful gloved hand, before sitting down on them once again, promptly extending one his beautiful long legs towards Atsumu.

“Prove it then.”

Atsumu drops to his knees almost immediately, cradles the heel in his hands and plants a kiss on the bridge right where it meets the shoe. He looks up carefully at Sakusa, still staring him down expectantly and continues, travelling up to his ankle and kissing it just where the bone juts out, knowing how tender it tends to feel after a long day of practice, and goes up further to the shin while his hand traces over the criss-crossed lines of the fishnet pattern with reverent care. He lets his other hand trace idly up the calf of the other leg, squeezing the solid muscle beneath it in appreciation.

The dark fabric stretches around the bend of Sakusa’s knee, revealing the multitude of dark moles and Atsumu wastes no time in kissing each and every single one of them too, gently tracing the knee on the other side as well. He travels further up, still following the constellations of sakusa’s moles through the nylon, sliding himself further and further between his lover’s—his mistress’ thighs.

He chances a glance up and he thinks he can make out a hint of lace through the opening of the leather skirt—he almost moans from the sight alone, and then he looks further up into Sakusa’s eyes watching him closely.

Pride wells up within him—Sakusa has never liked long eye contact, especially the first few times they had sex, but he’s barely even blinking as he stares Atsumu down, only the light flush on his face betraying that he’s affected in any way at all.

Atsumu has always found confidence attractive, and it’s somehow even more attractive on his Kiyoomi who rarely flaunts anything he has—so he gives in to their quiet competition, closes his eyes again, focusing solely on touching and kissing up Sakusa’s legs with every ounce of appreciation he has inside of him.

He feels another surge of pride for himself when he feels Sakusa twitch under his hands when his mouth finally touches the sliver of skin between the thigh-highs and the skirt, glad to finally be able to lick and suck on the skin—Sakusa exhales almost inaudibly, and a hand finds itself in Atsumu’s hair, simply resting between the the curls but maybe trying to push him closer. Atsumu instead moves to the other thigh, continues worshipping the alabaster sky with dark stars beneath him with his fingers and tongue as much as he can.

Still, he can’t help but trail a hand further up, slowly sliding under the tight hem of the skirt, and Sakusa’s hand in his hair immediately tugs him back harshly, to his pain and delight.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Atsumu barely suppresses a moan at another sting as Sakusa pulls his hair down so he’s forced to look up at him.

“You said you’d prove how sorry you are, but you’re still acting so selfishly. How disappointing.”

Atsumu swallows, thrill and fear alike keeping him wordlessly in place.

“You have nothing to say to your defense then?”

“...No, ma’am.”

Sakusa hums thoughtfully, pinches his face with two gloved fingers and turns it from side to side, using him almost like a doll. “Maybe there’s some hope for you,” he concludes and then promptly pushes on Atsumu’s forehead, making him stumble backwards.

“Undress yourself.“

“Yes ma’am,” Atsumu quickly scrambles to get up but Sakusa’s voice interrupts him yet again.

“Who said you could stand up?”

Sakusa is still staring him down with unquestionable authority, so Atsumu slowly lowers himself down again, and starts taking off his shirt while still on the floor—it’s humiliating, really, having to wiggle out of his clothes slowly and awkwardly while Sakusa still looks down on him so impassively, tapping one of his heels idly—but it’s also that humiliation that makes his skin tingle and his cock stand hard when he sits down naked in front of Sakusa again.

“I see you’re awfully enjoying yourself,” he comments, slowly tracing up Atsumu’s length with the smooth tip of his heels, and Atsumu hisses from the contact.

“O-of course I would,” he manages to break out with a lopsided grin, “when my mistress is so… beautiful, and generous.”

“Huh,” Sakusa says, his eyes softening just the slightest bit before he raises his hand to Atsumus face again, tracing a thumb over his lip.

“You’re still so awfully mouthy… I think we should fix that.” He presses the tip of his middle finger to Atsumu’s mouth. “Take it off.”

Atsumu immediately bites down on the glove as gently as he can and pulls it off, letting it drop to the ground just before it’s replaced by Sakusa’s fingers forcing their way into his mouth.

He hums around the salty taste of flesh, the familiar feeling of calluses under his tongue even as Sakusa keeps roughly shoving his fingers in and out of his mouth. Atsumu licks and sucks at them as much as he can in turn, always loving the sensation of it and even takes a chance and trails his hands up Sakusa’s calves again—and his mistress lets him, only pressing his long fingers deeper, determined to get him to choke.

It feels so good to get his mouth fucked even just with fingers to the point that Atsumu forgets himself, loses a bit of his skilled control, and closes his teeth just a little too much—

It promptly earns him a slap on the cheek, wet from his own saliva.

“You still haven’t learned your lesson, have you?”

“It-It was an accident—“

“Sure it was,” Sakusa says and stands up again, still impossibly tall and imposing with Atsumu still kneeling in front of him.

“Get up on the bed.” Atsumu does, still watching Sakusa as he walks up to the bedside table and retrieves their pair of pink leather handcuffs.

“Oh? So you brought out the handcuffs after all?”

He hears Sakusa huff but when he turns back to Atsumu, his gaze is just as stern as before, sliding onto the bed and pushing Atsumu into the sheets by his chest.

“Do you want me to get the ball gag too?”

Atsumu holds back his tongue for once in his life and keeps his mouth shut, instead just presenting his wrists obediently.

“Hm, you _are_ learning—good boy,” and Atsumu is not sure if it’s from the words or the fact that Sakusa straddles him, sitting right on his neglected cock, but he releases a harsh breath either way.

Sakusa pushes his arms up above his head, and then fastens the buckles of the handcuffs firmly, but not painfully. Atsumu moves them around and shivers when he finds himself delightfully incapacitated.

His lover looks down on him again, longer curls falling into his face and the longer Atsumu looks up at him the more he’s fascinated by the sight, with long curled lashes, the eye-makeup, and especially the black lipstick that his eyes are fixating on more and more—he looks up and Sakusa is watching him too, those dark lips open and oh-so-inviting to the point where Atsumu wets his own lips. Their eyes meet for a quiet second and—

Finally, _finally_ , Sakusa’s mouth is in his, hot and wet and insistent, tongues tracing each other, Sakusa pushing down while Atsumu pushes back as much as he can, sighs and muffled groans passing between them, removed from anything else they’re doing at the moment. They just need that sometimes.

When Sakusa pulls away again he’s panting breathlessly, and Atsumu relishes in the way the lipstick is smeared around the edges of his mouth. Meanwhile Sakusa takes his still-gloved hand and traces it around Atsumu’s mouth again, probably a mirror of Sakusa’s own—or its complementary puzzle piece, if you will.

“Really,” Sakusa sighs, “What should I do with you?” He sits back on his haunches as he talks, deliberately pressing down on Atsumu’s dick even more, so his reply gets choked off in a hiss.

“Wha-Whatever you want, ma’am,” Atsumu pants out.

“Whatever I want?” Sakusa’s voice drips with condescending amusement. “Very well.”

He gets up and Atsumu sighs from the relief but his breath catches yet again when he sees Sakusa come back with the riding crop back in his hand, slowly tracing it over his chest and down his sensitive sides, and Atsumu squirms from the ticklish sensation.

“Twenty hits should do fine, won’t they?”

“T-twent—“ His question turns into a high whine as Sakusa runs the tip of the crop over his cock.

“You’re right, you’re a big boy, aren’t you? You can handle twenty-five.”

Atsumu wants to whine and protest but he knows it will only make things worse for him—so instead he slowly nods and replies, “Yes, ma—”

He yelps out when the first hit comes down unexpectedly on his stomach.

“Count them for me, will you?” Sakusa says with innocent ease, running the tip of the crop over the reddened skin it just left in its wake.

“O-one.”

“Good boy,” Sakusa replies and then hits him once again on the abdomen.

“Two—”

By the time he counts to seven the hits are coming in around his chest and on his nipples. By fifteen they’ve trailed down again towards his sides, and by twenty there are tears gathering at the corners of his eyes as Sakusa keeps trailing his gloved hand on Atsumu’s tingling thighs.

“You’ve been doing very well,” Sakusa says almost kindly as he seeks Atsumu’s blurred gaze.

“Just five more left. Can you do that for me?”

Atsumu takes in a shuddering breath and nods. “Y—yes, ma’am.”

“Good boy, “ Sakura says and trails his hands carefully up and down Atsumu’s thigh again, before hitting it again.

Atsumu sobs out a “Twenty-one” before screaming as he feels the impact on his aching cock—there was definitely less force behind it this time, but the sensitivity makes the tears flow down his cheeks immediately.

“Twent—Twenty-two—”

“That’s it, darling,” Sakusa murmurs softly, almost absent-mindedly before hitting his cock again, this time right on the head as Atsumu squirms and bucks his hips in place. “T-twenty three—”

The twenty-fourth hit comes own on his other thigh with a force that makes him blank out for a solid second and he almost forgets to count it, while the last one that comes down on his cock again and makes him cry outright, “Twenty-five, twenty—twenty-five, it’s twenty-five now, please—”

Sakusa shushes him with his gloved hand shoving two fingers into his mouth once again, and Atsumu is left blinking up at his mistress with teary eyes.

“You’ve done so well,” Sakusa says and looks down at him with all the love and care in the world, his free hand running over Atsumu’s cheeks and wiping away his tears. “I think I’m ready to reward you now. How does that sound?”

Atsumu whines around the clothed fingers and nods eagerly.

“Good. Take that glove off too, but keep it in your mouth.” Atsumu nods again, bites the glove and watches Sakusa flex his hands several times, noticing for the first time the purple nailpolish on them—he trails those pretty fingers once more down Atsumu’s chest, thumbing over his nipples and the reddened marks which makes him take in sharp breaths. He palms Atsumu's cock teasingly once, twice, which makes him outright moan around the fabric in his mouth before Sakusa moves off the bed entirely.

Atsumu is left panting around the wet leather, slightly uncomfortable but mostly burning up with barely contained need for more, for _anything_ , and hungrily watches as Sakusa retrivies two fresh latex gloves from his pack in the drawer. He moans a muffled “ _God, yes_ ” at the sight of Sakusa slapping them on.

“Eager, are you?” Sakusa says, almost laughing.

“Ye’v kep’ m’ waitin’—” he replies around the glove, but Sakusa doesn’t acknowledge it either way, only coming back to him with their bottle of lube and a condom, pressing a hand to his side.

“Turn around, ass up.” Atsumu readily complies, idly smiling at Sakusa getting desperate enough to start swearing himself. He hears the cap being opened and the squelch of the almost-empty bottle that he knows Sakusa is cringing at, and then sighs when he finally feels Sakusa’s smooth fingers trace his rim with cold wetness, two of them slipping in with ease.

He moans and pushes his ass back as much as he can and Sakusa wastes no time setting a fast and deep pace for him, opening him up just enough to slip in a third finger, and then scissoring them just as deeply and making Atsumu drop his head between his tied hands.

Soon enough those fingers retract and Atsumu whines around the leather glove, but all sounds leave him entirely when he turns his head around and sees Sakusa slip off the latex gloves and then proceed to unbutton the shirt to reveal a black bralette, lined with intricate white lace at its bottom. Sakusa wordlessly looks back at him as slips the shirt off onto the side on the bed, and Atsumu keeps watching him with a salivating mouth as he unzips his skirt too, and dark panties, lined with the same white lace, hug his barely-contained flushed cock.

He moans what sounds vaguely like a “ _Fuck”_ and Sakusa smirks as he rips open the wrapper, not even bothering to remove the panties as he lets his cock out of the side, blowing into the condom before rolling it down his length with a sigh. Then he grins down almost mockingly at Atsumu.

“You like what you see, dear?”

Atsumu hums an affirmative and nods fervently, promptly sitting back more and spreading his legs just as eagerly.

“Well then,” Sakusa says, as he leans over him, still with all the lingerie and the thigh-highs and the heels and the dark and elegant makeup. “Let your mistress take care of you.”

And with that he slips into Atsumu, bottoming out as both of them moan at the contact, and the glove falls out of Atsumu’s mouth. He tries to gather it up again, he really does, but there’s no chance to when Sakusa immediately starts fucking him with strong and quick thursts at just the right angle, leaving him breathless and moaning, moving back in any way he can. Sakusa curls one hand around his hip, pulling him back onto himself, while the other one quickly finds its way back into Atsumu's hair, pulling at it before pressing him down into the pillows just as harshly.

”Mmm, yes—fuck, yes, mistress, _mommy_ —”

All movement stops, and Atsumu whines with something between pleasure and indignation.

“Say that again.”

“H-huh—” Atsumu barely registers the words with the stars behind his eyes but Sakusa’s hand in his hair tightens ruthlessly yet again.

“Say it,” he all but growls.

Atsumu’s thoughts catch up to him and he realizes just _what_ he babbled out in his delirium.

“M-mommy—?” A hard thrust makes his head fall back down, a loud moan spilling from his lips.

“Again.”

“Mommy—yes, fuck me, _mommy_ —” and at that Sakusa starts his pace once more, harsh and unforgiving, set only on chasing his own pleasure even as Atsumu feels himself teetering closer to the edge too, mindless ‘ _yes_ ’s and ‘ _please_ ’s and ‘ _ma’am_ ’s and ‘ _mommy_ ’s spilling out of him, until Sakusa leans over him and the hand on his hip reaches down to touch his cock—at that point Atsumu just has no choice, and he comes within two strokes and Kiyoomi’s name spilling out of him in a high moan.

He squirms from the overstimulation as Sakusa keeps roughly fucking into him and scratching at his hips with manicured nails, but he too comes inside Atsumu not a minute later, moaning as he leans down onto Atsumu’s back.

They stay just like that for a while, simply breathing each other and truly feeling all the delightfully warm points of contact between them. Atsumu hisses at the loss as Sakusa slides out of him, though he barely registers much else, only barely feeling Sakusa shift around him to untie his hands from the cuffs. He traces over his wrists with his thumb, before asking, “Are you okay?”

“Mh-hm,” Atsumu hums into the pillow without looking up, but he does hold onto his boyfriend’s hand and tries to pull him down into cuddling.

“I have to throw out the condom,” Sakusa berates him, and Atsumu whines even if he knows that it’s petty—but he lets Sakusa slip out of his hold anyways, and becomes all but dead to the world right after.

He does start to regain some semblance of consciousness soon enough, feeling his sweaty skin cool and noticing the way he’s still lying down in his come but he still simply stays there until Sakusa walks back into the room with the sound of the heels accompanying him, before he turns Atsumu onto his back once again.

“You know how gross that is?” Sakusa says without any bite, running a warm damp towel over his groin and stomach.

“But you’re cleanin’ me up anyways,” Atsumu replies lazily, and then slowly blinks his eyes open.

Sakusa still has his makeup on, he notices.

“Hey,” he says, and Sakusa looks back at him, and Atsumu pulls up his hand and cradles Sakusa’s face gently. His lover looks back at him quizzically but lets himself be moved closer, until they’re face to face and Atsumu can clearly look at him.

His lips, still stained black, even if it’s still messed up at the edges. The redness on his cheeks might be blush, or still some leftover exhaustion, but he finds it endearingly pretty either way. His eyelashes seem longer and curl upwards, and the eyeliner is as sharp as when he first saw it, even if some of the eyeshadow has started to pool in the crease of his eyelid.

It’s the most gorgeous sight he’s ever seen.

“What are you staring at me for?” Sakusa mumbles out quietly, averting his gaze.

“You’re just so pretty, Omi-chan,” Atsumu giggles and he feels Sakusa shrink back just a bit, though his eyes find Atsumu’s once again.

“So... you liked it?”

“Are you kiddin’ me? That was amazing,” he replies genuinely, though he finds himself grinning when he remembers something. “But who would’ve thought that you like being called—”

“Shut up,” Sakusa interrupts him and leans down to hide his face in Atsumu’s neck. Atsumu laughs at him softly, but he runs his hand through Sakusa’s curls comfortingly, noticing their length once again.

“Are these extensions?”

“... Yeah.”

“Cool. Did it hurt to wear those heels?”

“Surprisingly, no.” Sakusa leans back up again to look him in the eyes.

“So this is... Okay. With you.”

“Oh, this is way more than okay with me,” Atsumu grins up at him, and then presses a kiss onto his lips for good measure. “Who knows, maybe I can wear a school uniform next time or somethin’,” he adds in light jest.

“That’s…” He expects Sakusa to protest, but the way he looks off to the side, just a shade uncertain, tells Atsumu everything he needs to know.

“Oh my god, you like that idea,” he realizes with a grin.

“Shut up and help me change the sheets.” Sakusa turns away from him to do just that, but Atsumu doesn’t miss the way his ears have reddened just a tad more than usual. He’ll definitely have to ask where Sakusa got his clothes from later.

**Author's Note:**

> so uh, thanks for reading until the end, please do consider giving it a retweet on my [twitter](https://twitter.com/emeraIdpalace/status/1306328357580177410) if you liked it well enough!


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